


Panty Shots

by Xyriath



Series: FMA: Twelve Days of Smut [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Lingerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:59:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6006940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winry's been through much scarier things than wearing fancy lingerie in front of her girlfriend for the first time.  She's totally not nervous.  Definitely not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panty Shots

**Author's Note:**

> [Lingerie ref. ](http://i.ebayimg.com/images/a/%28KGrHqZ,!k4F!c0-0pYZBQ,Uhsw7Fg~~/s-l300.jpg) Lace is completely see-through.

“Are you ready?” Riza murmured, her breath tickling the hair behind Winry’s ear. Winry allowed herself a little thrilled shiver, biting her lip with anticipation as Riza’s lips followed her breath, trailing down the nape of Winry’s neck.

“Yeah,” Winry breathed, shivering again, hoping that her face wasn’t as red as it felt, but knowing she couldn’t possibly be that lucky.

She stepped forward, turning slowly. Riza was already undressed, in elegant yet understated lingerie, lounging back on the bed as if she owned it—and watching Winry with a muted gleam in her eye that spoke of something similar.

“Take it off,” she murmured, and Winry took a deep breath.

The front of the Xingese robe drifted open, exposing her chest and stomach before sliding off nearly bare shoulders, ghosting down her back as it slid to the floor. Though she felt a twinge of guilt for letting it sit there, Ling had assured her, with a smirk, when she had traveled to Xing for the coronation, that was _precisely_ what it had been intended for.

She had been naked for Riza before, of course, had _sex_ with Riza before, but there was definitely something jarringly different now. The lace of the bra and panties kept her from being _completely_ naked, though just barely. But the flowered, intricate threads only seemed to heighten her exposure, leaving her feeling stripped and vulnerable.

Riza’s eyes clung to her skin the same way the delicate fabric did, and it started to make sense, a little. It wasn’t like it was _hiding_ anything—no; it was too transparent for that—and actually seemed to emphasize it, prettying up her breasts and the area between her legs for Riza to watch, take in, _touch_ —

And it was a warm, deep sensation that both filled a craving and woke something new in Winry, like dark chocolate melting on the back of her tongue, being prettied up like this. Being _desired_ like this. Though she knew that she was _still_ a very pink color, she cocked her hip a tiny bit, twisting a lock of hair nervously around his finger, looking up at Riza from underneath her eyelashes. She had never been much of a seductress, but _Riza_ might like a little effort in that direction.

“Beautiful.” Riza’s eyes felt like warm tongues of fire over her skin—and at the thought of the word “tongue,” the bottom seemed to drop out of her stomach.

Winry had figured right, given the way that Riza sat forward, alert. She could feel her nipples stiffen, the fabric scratching gently against them, and the flick of Riza’s gaze to Winry’s chest made it clear that her sharp eyes hadn’t missed it. In response, Winry felt a wetness trickling between her legs.

“Come here.”

Winry obeyed with alacrity, stepping quickly over to the bed and crawling up onto it. Riza tugged her forward, then pushed her back, shoving Winry onto the pillows with a force that left her breathless.

She gasped when Riza’s hands settled on her sides, sliding down slowly, shivering a little as they ghosted over her hips.

When they reached the waistband, however, they didn’t tug it down.

Winry lifted her head in confusion, peering down for some explanation, and Riza pressed her palm up between Winry’s legs.

She gasped as Riza’s hand ground into her, sending that wonderful, thrilling dark chocolate sensation through her again, a slow, full promise of pleasure. The lace did absolutely nothing to hide her arousal: it was only a few long, flustered moments before it was soaked through completely, leaving Riza’s fingers glistening when she pulled them away. Winry panted for a moment at the sight, eyes wide, and couldn’t stop a groan of _want_ when Riza lifted them slowly to her mouth and licked.

That was it for the panties: when Winry shifted, the slickness on her thighs told her that they were doing absolutely nothing for concealment, and Riza crawled forward, almost prowling, before dipping her head and running her tongue up over the lace.

Winry yelped and arched her hips at that, and Riza cupped the bottom of her thighs and tugged her forward encouragingly, licking more. The contrasting sensations of the smooth, warm tongue and the textured rasp of the lace leave her gasping, and she’d writhe if Riza didn’t have such a firm grip on her thighs—and _that_ would involve moving away from Riza’s mouth, the tongue that was slowly but surely cleaning her thighs and cunt.

“Riza!” she gasped, reaching down to bury her fingers in that long, blonde hair, squirming forward, and Riza chuckled slightly, then hooked a finger in the side of the crotch of the panties and tugged it aside, exposing the blonde curls.

Riza’s eyes glinted as she leaned forward, and then they vanished as she ducked her head, licking up slowly to Winry’s clit.

Winry whimpered and gasped, lifting a hand to cover her mouth, and Riza reached up to grab Winry’s arm and yank it down again, releasing the yell.

Riza moaned into her, chuckling softly, and Winry whimpered and gripped the sheets beside her.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Riza sighed, her hot breath ghosting over Winry’s skin, sending little tingles of pleasure upwards, her fingers stroking Winry’s thighs. The words did even more than the touches, and Winry’s chest felt like it was contracting and doing somersaults all at once. She positively _ached_ for this kind of want, and she hadn’t even known it, not until…

Winry reached out to cup Riza’s face, panting, and ran a thumb down Riza’s cheek, drawing a smile from her face. Riza reached up, sliding her hands up Winry’s sides this time, briefly cupping Winry’s breasts and teasing her into squirming before returning down to spread her legs wider, expose her more, all while watching appreciatively.

Winry groaned, shifting her hips, and Riza licked. “That’s it,” she murmured, lips pressed against the ones between Winry’s legs. “Scream for me.”

And when she punctuated her next lick with a decisive thrust of two fingers, Winry tilted her head back and did.

It always vaguely amazed her—when she wasn’t out of her mind with pleasure—how Riza could take her utterly apart and put her back together, the same way that Winry could a piece of automail, knowing exactly how to tease her into torture. Teeth scraping on thighs, spreading fingers, a well-placed thumb, and that god-forsaken _tongue_. The way Riza’s fingers rubbed at her through the lace, or the way she paused to take the way Winry looked in it—all of it left her limp and shaking, the cries ripping free of her throat with every new, overwhelming, _wonderful_ assault on her senses.

And she didn’t let up, not the first time Winry arched off the bed, the orgasm rippling through her after an agonizingly long buildup. She didn’t stop her thorough, relentless movements when Winry whimpered, trying to come down, gasped, only to be worked right back up again, slow and demanding, didn’t stop when; didn’t stop when she was thrashing again, coming again, soaking Riza’s fingers; and by the time Riza worked her up to a third orgasm, tongue dragging deliciously over Winry’s clit as she clenched around the fingers, she was sobbing with pleasure.

Eyes wide but unseeing, she gasped as she continued to contract around Riza’s fingers inside her, riding out the orgasm yet again, losing herself as she felt the familiar fuzzy-headed bliss start to set in.

For a moment that, this time, was more filled with worry than excitement, she wondered if Riza was going to try for a fourth. But Riza withdrew her hand—setting the underwear back into place, she noticed with a tired giggle.

Arms slid around her, and she automatically snuggled into RIza’s chest, obediently licking at the fingers Riza held out. She tasted herself and felt a tiny thrill in the pit of her stomach, the way she always did—and then pushed it away for later. She was far too tired right now.

Riza leaned in to kiss away the tears on Winry’s cheeks, and she giggled again.

“Wonderful,” she murmured, and Winry allowed herself a pleased flush as Riza nuzzled into her hair.

“Yeah, it was.” Her head was clearing now, which meant… well. Maybe it was _her_ turn now to take Riza to pieces.

She pressed a hand forward, sliding it between Riza’s legs, eyes sliding up to meet Riza’s surprise.

Her turn indeed.

With a smirk, she reached out, planting a hand on Riza’s shoulder and shoving.


End file.
